


The Hair Fic

by Yesimawriter



Series: Christmas-time Festive Fics [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Hair, Hair Kink, Hair-pulling, Intense, M/M, Smut, Trials, i'm complete trash, what else am I supposed to write?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 06:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17055224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yesimawriter/pseuds/Yesimawriter
Summary: 'As he began to sit down in his place, the doors behind him opened and in came two tall, well-built prison guards. Harry’s heart skipped a beat as a tuft of familiar blond hair caught his attention from between both the guards. They got closer and closer to Harry and he tried to continue seeing past them, trying to get another peek at Draco.His blood ran cold when he finally saw him.'





	The Hair Fic

**Author's Note:**

> The story behind this fic developed due to a discussion about Draco and Harry and their love for each other's hair. Therefore, I am going to spend the entire length of this fic proving that point. It starts off with Draco's trials and will hopefully get lighter as things progress. So sit down with a cup of whatever you feel like drinking and enjoy this ride.
> 
> *Merry Christmas*

Harry climbed up the steps of the Wizengamot with his eyes straight ahead and his face neutral. The cameras kept flashing and people kept hounding him, but Harry didn’t care, he only had one thought in his mind. He had to free Draco Malfoy.

Harry had stumbled across the news accidentally when he had been with Ron and Hermione at the Burrow. He personally preferred not to read the newspaper or any of the rubbish that the reporters wrote in it, but his eyes had refused to move away from the words “Draco Malfoy” and “Death Eater trials”.

He’d had to request Arthur to take a look at the newspaper, and then he’d had to step out of the Burrow to get some fresh air. After reading the article in the Daily Prophet, and what the reporters, and the people of the Wizarding World, were saying about Draco Malfoy, he’d needed to take a walk to calm himself down.

They were keeping Draco in a temporary prison until the date of the trials. That alone made Harry’s blood boil. It wasn’t Azkaban, thankfully, but Draco didn’t deserve to be kept in any kind of prison, despite what he’d done, and especially because of it.

Harry had become numb after the war, he hadn’t felt anything real since after his death. The way that he felt about his friends and his family-that’s what he called the Weasleys now-was only natural. The emotions he felt were underlying and almost unnoticeable. When he had found out about Draco though, it had felt like a dam had broken and let free the emotions that had been kept safely guarded behind it. Harry had felt rage and pain and so many different emotions that it had been difficult to keep track of them.

Nobody had told him about the trials. He had requested and asked about it so many times, but nobody had told him a single thing. He had even asked to give back Malfoy’s wand, but he had been denied the right to do that too. If Harry had known where they had been keeping Malfoy…. If he’d known, he would’ve done something about it.

As he began to sit down in his place, the doors behind him opened and in came two tall, well-built prison guards. Harry’s heart skipped a beat as a tuft of familiar blond hair caught his attention from between both the guards. They got closer and closer to Harry and he tried to continue seeing past them, trying to get another peek at Draco.

His blood ran cold when he finally saw him.

He hadn’t seen Draco since right after his death when Draco had thrown his wand at Harry and saved his life in the process. It had barely been a month but it felt like years since the last time he’d seen Draco, since the last time their eyes had latched onto each other’s and had refused to look elsewhere, since the Fiendfyre, since everything.

Draco was looking down at his feet as he was being pushed along by the guards behind him, and pulled by the cuffs by the guards standing in front of him. He didn’t so much as make a sound, did not even flinch and he had his hair falling into his eyes.

Harry felt his chest aching painfully and, again, quite familiarly as he remembered seeing those emotions on Draco’s face almost regularly in the past two years, and he wished that things could change. He wished that Draco could go back to being the way he used to be before. He used to be expressive, life-like, loud and so, so noisy. Sure he had been a dick, but he’d been warm and somehow _there_.

Now Draco looked as if he couldn’t be farther away from his physical form. The ache in Harry’s chest deepens, though not out of pity. He wished that he could see Draco better, that Draco would just look up at him, so Harry would know. He would know that Draco was alright, and that he would be fine. Harry wished that someone would just fucking push Draco’s hair out of his eyes, and he sure as hell wished that someone were him.

The guards stopped moving all of a sudden and Harry startled as Draco suddenly looked up and then turned to face him. Their eyes met, and Harry saw pain and confusion in those eyes. He felt as if Draco were asking him a question, but what question could it possibly be?

He realised what it could be when he noticed that he was standing up in the middle of a completely crowded court. He had never sat down; he hadn’t even had the chance to. So he willed himself to move forwards and let his legs carry him to Draco.

Everything else ceased to exist as he stood before him. It had been so long, and Harry just wanted to _look_ at Draco, but his hair hid most of his face. Harry reached out before he even knew what he was doing, stepping closer and pushing the previously-pale-but-now-slightly-muddy blond hair behind Draco’s ears.

He didn’t mind that Draco’s hair was somehow a darker shade than it had been before, in fact, he preferred it that way.

As Harry’s fingers trailed down the sides of Draco’s face, he noticed how much Draco was struggling to keep himself together, to keep his walls up, and how he was clearly failing at it, how his mask was slowly cracking. Letting one of his hands cup Draco’s jaw, he let the fingers halt underneath Draco’s chin, tilting it up and brushing his thumb just below Draco’s lower lip. He stepped closer, feeling all of the emotions that shown on Draco’s face with just as much intensity, if not more of it.

He could feel the pure anguish bubbling inside of Draco and feel him trembling and shaking, just like Harry was. The first tear fell from Draco’s eyes as he looked down, as if avoiding Harry’s gaze and not wanting to meet it.

Harry spoke softly to him, so quietly that no one else could hear him. “I’ve got you, Draco. I’ve got you now, and I promise I’m not letting you go.” Draco’s eyes flitted upwards, widening just seconds before he crumpled and fell into Harry’s arms.

They were both on their knees, gripping each other tightly, and sobbing. Harry wondered why _he_ was crying when he was supposed to be _comforting_ Draco. Why was Harry so pants at this?

It was Draco who seemed to pull himself together first, and Harry could see that the guards as well as the public was getting very impatient. He stood up and looked down at Harry, eyes somehow back to the emotionless grey that they had been, as he said, “I’ll see you on the other side, Potter.”

For a few moments, they stared at each other, and Harry was still on his knees frozen. Then he registered Draco’s words and scrambled to get up because Draco had said it almost as if he weren’t talking about being free and outside of prison, it was almost as if he were hinting at something else, and Harry really didn’t want to contemplate what that was.

Just as he blinked and thought of asking Draco about what he’d meant, to clarify _exactly_ what he’d had in mind while saying that to Harry, he realised that he couldn’t. The guards had already dragged Draco away from him and towards the stand. So all he could do was go back to his seat and sit down until his name was called.


End file.
